


sun protection

by arcanawildcard, clairelutra (exosolarmoon)



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/M, Resolved Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Walk Of Shame, it's a fade to black don't kill me, sunscreen application
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 17:47:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17268608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arcanawildcard/pseuds/arcanawildcard, https://archiveofourown.org/users/exosolarmoon/pseuds/clairelutra
Summary: In which Ann and Akira are both highly distractable and a little too good at this masseur business.





	sun protection

**Author's Note:**

> AYYYY guess who's (trying to) participate in both [getyourwordsout](https://getyourwordsout.dreamwidth.org/) and the [summer in december bingo](https://volpish.dreamwidth.org/13192.html)! it's ya girllll~
> 
> fave tropes are fave tropes and sunscreen application is one of them. bless this bingo card, honestly.
> 
> EDIT: something went funny and this double-posted. sorry guys! :x

For all that Akira had been oddly hesitant in agreeing to get Ann's back for her, he was surprisingly _good_ at it.

His touch was gentle and steady, his uncalloused hands smoothing sunscreen over her back like a caress, and Ann didn't even try to suppress the delighted hum that escaped her when he passed over a particularly good spot. 

(A faint fantasy or three crossed her mind about those hands between her legs, on her chest, on her butt—how that would take the gentleness and turn it into torture—but that was kind of inappropriate even if he _was_ technically her boyfriend, so she didn't indulge. Later.)

It left her feeling pleasantly squirmy and hot, and she whined in protest when he stopped.

He held his hands up in supplication, turning his face away from her pout. "I think that's as safe as you're going to get."

She'd almost think he was embarrassed, but he was in full 'enigmatically impassive' mode. She sighed and sat up, stretching in bliss. "Fine. But I'm _totally_ blaming you if I end up red as a lobster."

"Understood," he said dryly.

She glanced over just in time to catch his eyes darting away from her, then back and pointedly at her face, which... was solidly less annoying and uncomfortable than it had any right to be.

(Or maybe it did have the right, considering.)

He made to get up, and Ann's stomach lurched.

"Wait!" she blurted, capturing his elbow. Then, at his questioning look, "I, um." _Don't want you to go yet._ "Let me return the favor! Or you're the one who's gonna end up red as a lobster."

Surprise made its way through the deadpan. "I don't think—"

"Please?" she plied with a smile. "C'mon, I'll feel bad if I don't."

Hesitantly, he let himself be guided back down, their positions reversed this time.

"You're super pale," she went on as she searched for the bottle of sunscreen. "You probably burn even worse than I do."

He didn't reply, but that was pretty normal. 

It wasn't until she had the cream squirted into her palm and warmed between her palms that she got a good look at his back. 

"How did you get this... _toned?"_ she marveled, pressing a fingertip to his skin and feeling the muscle just below the surface. "I mean, I guess we do get a lot of exercise, but still..."

"Jealous?"

"Kinda, yeah," Ann admitted on a giggle. That wasn't her main thought, but not untrue. She smoothed a stripe of sunscreen across the line of his shoulders, admiring the subtle shadows. "Getting in shape isn't easy, you know."

Getting to touch wasn't _quite_ as erotic as being touched, but that was a mercy right now. She traced the knobs of his spine, flattened her palms over his shoulder blades and let them slide down to his hips.

Even more than the muscle, there was a thrum of vitality under his skin that was... mouth-watering, actually. Which sounded pretty creepy put like that, but it was less of a 'I want to eat him' kind of thing and more of a...

Well.

Maybe she did want to 'eat' him, if you knew what she meant. Just a little bit, y'know?

She didn't even notice how _into it_ she'd gotten until Akira cleared his throat.

"I, uh, think Makoto's calling you."

His voice was low and rough enough that it took a second for the words themselves to make their way through her brain.

 _Then_ the surge of embarrassment took hold. "Sorry! I got a liiiittle distracted. You, um. Have a very nice back."

Bad, bad, bad—this made _her_ one of the pervs she grumbled about so much, didn't it? Uuuugh. He was probably super uncomfortable right now. She should—

_"Ann? Ann!"_

Oh. Makoto really _was_ calling her. Huh.

She could half see her behind the stack of ice chests that belonged to the people who'd set up beside them, so Ann flopped forward to look around them. Under her, Akira choked into a coughing fit.

 _"Yeah?"_ Ann yelled back.

Makoto waved, one hand cupped beside her mouth. _"We're going shopping for souvenirs."_ Beside her, Ann spotted Futaba and Mishima. _"Do you want to come with us?"_

 _"Give me a minute,"_ Ann replied, still loud enough to carry, then rocked back onto the balls of her feet. Half-teasing, she said, "I think you're as safe as you're gonna get, too. It might be a waste of sunscreen, but wanna come with?"

"...No, I think I'm good," Akira said weakly. For the first time, Ann noticed that his ears and the back of his neck were sunburn-red, noticed how shallow and controlled his breathing was. "I'm gonna go back to the hotel."

"C'mon, that's an even bigger waste," she reproached, feeling like she _should_ be able to put a name to that reaction, but it was slipping out of her grasp. He was always so composed—it _couldn't_ be, right? "Come with me!"

He paused in reaching over for the shirt he'd left lying on their bags and laughed an even drier laugh. "...Not there."

That innuendo was just in her head... right? "Oh? Then where?"

"Not telling."

"Well, if you're not going, then let me walk you back," she said decisively.

"No, that's—"

"I'll just text Makoto..."

_"Hey..."_

* * *

Despite his protests, she _did_ walk him back. She spent the entire trip babbling nervously and talking herself in and out of stealing a kiss once they got there—which meant that by the time they were outside the door, the mood was completely and utterly dead.

_Good job, Takamaki. Juuuuust great._

"This is my stop," Akira informed her rather unnecessarily, in some combination of amused and resigned.

"Right! Of course it is." She folded her hands and squeezed them, catching the corner of her mouth between her teeth. Should she, shouldn't she, should she, shouldn't she...

He shot her a bemused half-smile. "...What?"

She should, she finally decided. She definitely should, mood be damned.

"Ann? —Nmgh."

So she did.

But what she'd intended to be a brief brush of lips felt like striking a match, and the gutted noise Akira made as he shoved her into the wall and pinned her there with a ravenous kiss said that she'd just thrown that match onto an unlit bonfire.

That was okay with her. That was very okay.

Despite its okayness, the first thing out of Akira's mouth when they broke apart was, "Sorry," and then, "Sorry, I—" and then he actually _looked_ at her and abruptly shut up with an audible gulp.

Unfailing composure: broken. 

Akira: too many points to count. Ann: _infinity._

"So, earlier... I think you might have, you know... missed a few spots." Ann was resoundingly reminded that she was _very bad_ at this seduction thing. "Still gonna be your fault if I get sunburned, you know."

"...Oh." He swallowed again. "And you want me to... take responsibility?"

She bit down on the corner of her mouth to repress the weird smile she couldn't quite squash and stared pointedly at the wall behind him.

He laughed a breathless laugh. "...Okay."

* * *

Ann stole his shirt to cover up with on her way out. That probably just made it _more_ obvious that this was a walk of shame, but whatever. She'd won a great victory against her boyfriend's unshakeable cool today—that was worth a little celebration, wasn't it?

She ran into the souvenir trio on her way out.

"Oh, Ann," said Makoto. "Where's Akira?" 

Mishima looked mildly confused. "And why do you have his shirt?"

Futaba, on the other hand, was eyeing Ann's bare legs with two fingers pressed to her pursed lips.

"Oh, he decided to take a nap," Ann said easily. "Careful you don't wake him up, okay?"

"Akira? Sleeping through _Hawaii?_ Damn, he's missing out." Despite this, Mishima sent her a firm nod. "But I won't wake him up, promise."

"I'm going to drop these off in our room," Makoto decided, looking at her bags. Then, to Ann, "Where are you going?"

"I'm gonna hit the beach," said Ann, shoving her hands in Akira's pockets. Everything felt so _good._ She was trying not to smile too much, but she was probably failing. _"I_ don't plan to miss out."

The slightly puzzled look Makoto shot her said that yes, she was failing. Thankfully Makoto didn't ask. "Okay. Don't forget sunscreen, alright?"

"I... think I'm covered."

Futaba emitted a strangled snort, her shoulders shaking and her cheeks red.

"...Alright then." Makoto visibly brushed it off her shoulders. "Have fun!"

"And don't forget protection," Futaba singsonged cheekily as she passed. "You know, from the sun."

Ann waved her a peace sign and a grin of her own, then escaped. She didn't really want to be here when the other two figured it out.


End file.
